


The Royals Don't Undress Themselves

by angelinthecity



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: BFI London Film Festival, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 09:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelinthecity/pseuds/angelinthecity
Summary: The boys reunite at a film festival in London and befitting his previous stay in the city, Timmy wants to be treated as a royal. Armie is more than happy to oblige.





	The Royals Don't Undress Themselves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ghostcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostcat/gifts).



> A little one-shot for Ghostcat's birthday.
> 
> Fiction fiction fiction, as always.

**London, October 2018**

 

Timmy is always so immersed in the experience of watching the film that the moment when the house lights go on never fails to come as a surprise. He blinks a few times to ground himself and then stands up, following the example of his fellow _Beautiful Boy_ cast members. The festival-goers in the Leicester Square movie theater rise to their feet just as enthusiastically as the audiences in the previous festival screenings had, and Timmy now takes a bow and waves to people alongside the rest of the cast.

The cast has been seated in the front row, so the crowd blocks his view and despite stealthily looking around, he can't see the man in the back, a head taller than his seatmates. Yet, he knows Armie is there.

He knows Armie stays for the Q&A panel, too, and he tries to concentrate on the questions from the moderator all the while thinking how weird it feels to do this without him. Like Timmy’s only partially here, with an essential limb of his all the way back at the opposite end of the auditorium.

Last year he was here right next to him, his thigh pressing occasionally against Timmy's under the table. At that point he hadn't been certain yet if it had been intentional or not, but he had surely found out later.

The first audience question is about the cast dynamics. Timmy starts the round by explaining enthusiastically how the rest of the cast, despite their fame and higher name-recognition, made him feel so great and welcome and comfortable on set. When he passes the microphone on to the next cast member, he feels his phone vibrating against his thigh with an incoming text message. He has an idea whom it’s from, but can't check it until after the panel is over. Had he been able to take out his phone, he’d have seen Armie’s message, " _Is that so, my beautiful boy_?"

 

 

" _Come on, you know it was nothing compared to how you made me feel. And still do_ ," Timmy quickly texts back after the panel, walking down the hallway behind everyone else. " _And by the way, last time I was in London I kinda got used to being called the king. Just so you know ;)_ "

The reply lights up his screen when they descend the stairs down to the lobby and it makes Timmy miss a step and almost trip on his feet. " _I will try and remember that when I have you naked tonight, Your Majesty."_

 

 

In the lobby, Timmy joins the rest of the cast in signing programs and taking pictures with the fans, a screaming crowd corralled behind barricades. Timmy is obviously the main attraction, so the rest of the cast has already left in their cars for the restaurant when he gets out, and he gets a car all to himself.

” _Heading for the dinner now,”_ he types into his phone as the car curves away from the theater.

A few streetlights later, a reply: ” _Have fun. By the way, you were superb in the film, not that I was expecting anything less from The King.”_

_”Ha :) But glad you liked it :) Let’s see how superbly I will be portraying tiredness so that I can excuse myself and leave as soon as we’re done with the three courses.”_

_”Put on your best performance. I’ll be waiting with my full review and ready to show my appreciation hands-on.”_

Timmy smiles at Armie’s words and feels the familiar quickening of his pulse. He still has a few hours of work responsibilities to take care of however, so he just bites his lip and slips the phone back into his pocket just as the car arrives at the restaurant.

 

 

Head still slightly buzzing from the wine at dinner and from all the attention during the evening, Timmy sends the text as soon as he gets into the hotel elevator.

” _714_ ”

The elevator doesn’t have a mirror, but he can see his reflection all the same on its numerous shiny surfaces. The pieces of him reflected one here, another there, like a hundred different versions of him. Timmy presses the button for the seventh floor and his stomach does a little flip as he knows which version of himself he gets to be tonight.

He barely gets into his room before there's already a knock on the door and then Armie is there, hungrily enclosing him into his embrace without so much as a hello. He sinks his fingers into Timmy's hair and his lips into his neck.

”Why are you still dressed,” he grunts.

”The royals don't undress themselves,” Timmy mumbles and kisses Armie’s earlobe.

”Well, who am I to defy the orders of my king, then?” Armie starts to slide his fingers underneath the satiny waistband of Timmy’s impossibly skinny burgundy pants before Timmy stops him.

”Not so fast. The king also prefers his royal undresser to be naked,” Timmy says pointedly and flops on the high, brocade-covered bed.

Leaning back on his forearms, long legs dangling off the edge of the bed, he admires the scene that now unfolds in front of him: every inch of Armie’s lightly bronzed skin and golden hair being exposed just for him, like on so many stolen nights before.

With the very last piece of Armie's clothing gone, Timmy tugs him towards the bed and when he’s close enough, runs his fingernails up the backs of Armie’s now bare thighs. The sleeves of his satiny jacket feel cool and smooth brushing against Armie’s skin. Timmy pulls him close to stand between his knees and buries his face against his stomach.

”I usually love being naked before you but this works very well, too,” Timmy murmurs against his skin.

His slender fingers cupping Armie’s buttocks and thereby holding him in place, he starts by slowly licking into his navel and when he continues further south, Armie’s thumbs soon start to press painfully deep into Timmy’s shoulders.

”This royal subject would like to take care of his responsibilities now, please.”

”What, you’re not enjoying this?” Timmy smiles into the crease of his groin.

”Oh yes, I would just like to attempt opening all those buttons of yours while I’m still fairly coherent.”

With a grin and a scrunch of his nose, Timmy lets go of him and stands up, pushing Armie to sit on the bed instead. He parts Armie’s legs enough to be able to fit between them and gathers Armie’s face between his hands for a kiss that’s more of a tease, really; barely a brush on the lips. One hand still at the nape of Armie’s neck, Timmy tries his best to stand still when Armie starts to peel off his clothes in return, at an intentionally and excruciatingly glacial pace.

When he’s finally done, he pulls Timmy on the bed with him, pinning him down and kissing him so thoroughly that one might think they hadn’t seen each other for years. The kisses continue down along Timmy’s collarbone and his pale chest. When Armie’s lips only graze Timmy’s nipples but don’t stop there, Timmy lets out a disappointed moan and Armie smiles. Feigning ignorance, he asks what’s wrong.

”Is there something Your Majesty wanted?”

”You know what I want,” Timmy says squirming impatiently, trying to speed things up with the all-inclusive statement, but Armie is in no hurry and instead, makes him state everything out loud in full detail.

Barely discernible sounds escape from Timmy’s lips when every item from his list then gets realized, and the last words he vaguely registers before everything blurs into delirium are  _is this pleasing my king?_

 

 

Afterwards, they lay in bed with Armie’s head leaning on Timmy’s shoulder, arm draped over his body.

”The dinner tomorrow with Luca. Who else is coming?” Timmy asks, slowly running his fingers back and forth on Armie’s bicep, squeezing the muscle tenderly every now and then.

”I don’t remember exactly, but it’ll be a group of people.”

”Will you save me a seat next to you if I come in late from my interviews? I don’t want to have to resort to only texting you from the other end of the table.”

”Will you behave if I do? I remember a recent occasion where it wasn’t the wisest decision to have you and your nimble fingers seated next to me at a dinner table.”

”You loved every second of it.”

”Just know that if anything like that happens again, the royal subjects may revolt and the king will pay dearly for his crimes.”

Timmy’s lips curve into a grin at the thought.

”Gladly,” he replies as he presses a kiss on Armie’s hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to hear what you think, and I'm also on tumblr: [angel-in-new-york-city](http://angel-in-new-york-city.tumblr.com)


End file.
